I'm Not Calling you a Liar
by PirateRosi
Summary: After they escape Kirkwall, a very angry she-Hawke gives Anders a well-deserved beating. But what will happen next however? The party continue to flee the Templars as Hawke struggles with her enduring feelings for Anders, and Fenris...
1. Better the Devil you Know

This is my attempt to put to words how I think my Hawke would feel after what happened at the end of Dragon Age 2, although I do intend the story to continue after this chapter and explore what the Champion and her companions do after Kirkwall. I have used some direct quotes from the ending of the game, so obviously I make no claims and definitely did not write those. As ever, all characters and settings belong to the amazing Bioware, without whom we would have no Anders, but perhaps richer social lives. Huzzah!

Chapter 1 - Better the Devil You Know

As soon as she heard them, Hawke knew she would never forget Anders' words until the day she died.

"The grand cleric cannot help you."

Hawke had almost felt it definably as the situation slipped from her grasp, like the terrible moment after accidentally dropping something and wait for it shatter. The stalemate was

broken and her hand was forced. The pawns were lined up on the chessboard, black and white, and she was dragged from the sidelines and her comfortable, neutral, shade of grey.

"Why, why would you do such a thing?" she heard Orsino ask Anders, his voice trembling.

"I removed the chance of compromise, because there is no compromise" Anders replied, and there was no such sense of uncertainty in his.

Even remembering it took Hawke's breath away. Though it had all happened merely hours ago, it felt like it had all been a life time away. She was sat atop a small grassy hillock in the countryside, barely outside of Kirkwall. The sky was an inky black now, but the city still burned, far off in the distance. Her armor was drenched in blood, some of it her own, and her fingers had not stopped trembling. Her entire body ached with fatigue, and her right arm had began to smart terribly. She adjusted herself slightly, so she was no longer leaning her weight upon it. Her right gauntlet had cracked and ruptured, and her arm felt sticky with blood beneath it. Hawke had barely noticed it before, her body had been running entirely on adrenaline as they fled the city, that and the desire to ensure her companions safety. She was damned if all of that happened would be for nothing. Though she had sustained a few injuries in the battle, it dawned on her that the pain she felt had nothing to do with her physical state. Anders had lived with her for the past three years, she had trusted him with her life and yet he had thrown it all completely and irrevocably in her face. He should have known surely, that she would not let anything happen to the circle mages they had fought to protect so severely. Hawke had always known that some of his measures were extreme, but she had thought that she had at least tempered this part of him, or at least he would try, for her sake.

It was the first time since the battle she had been alone. Hawke dropped her head onto her knees, allowing the tears she had been furiously trying to hold back to fall down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them tightly towards her as though afraid she would fall apart if she let go. Her hands balled into tight fists, her nails cutting into her palms. All the anger, hurt, unfairness and other unidentifiable feelings washed over her until she was almost crippled by it, forcing the fresh memories back into the forefront of her mind. Despite everything she still sided with the mages, as Hawke had always known she would. It wasn't their fault that Anders had appeared to have lost whatever was left of his ever wavering sanity. Her decision and it's repercussions however, seemed almost like a sidenote now, and the following battles were a blur. Her mind was ensnared, it could not focus on anything else but Anders.

She had not spared his feelings. After Orsino had left for the the gallows to prepare for the battle, Hawke had spoken with Anders. Though she felt that she had no words left for him, Hawke could still not take the greatly mistaken mage's life. She had simply said, "Help me defend the mages, it's the least you can do."

"You mean, stay with you? I didn't think you'd let me. But if you do, I'll fight the templars. Damned right I will" Anders had looked at her then, with something like hope in his eyes.

All Hawke had left was spite, "You will, and you'll fight any mages that turn to blood magic. We don't need anymore abominations running amock."

After the battle they had fled, leaving Kirkwall in flames and chaos. On the outskirts of the city they ran into Guardsman Donnic. After both he and Aveline had sided with the Champion against the templars, it was unlikely that they too, would be able to return. Before she left with Donnic, Aveline had taken Hawke to one side, trying to impress into her the importance of persuading Anders to turn himself in. Hawke had been tired, and wholly unmoved by her plea. As it was, despite what he had done, Hawke still believed that turning him over to the Templars would be a fate worse than death. Perhaps death was what he deserved, but she wanted to him to live with what he had done, she wanted him make up for his wrongs. Whether he could, was another thing entirely.

With Aveline gone, this left her with few of her companions remaining. Her sister Bethany, Varric the dwarf, Merril, Fenris and of course, Anders. Isabela had disappeared before the qunari had attacked, and had not been seen since. Sebastien had left when Hawke spared Anders' life, vowing that he would return and kill him. Though Hawke had stated she would defend Anders, it was with a heavy heart. She still loved him, which was what made the situation all the more unbearable. Sebastien on the other hand had always warned her about him. He had been a good friend, and now he was gone, probably only returning to attempt to take her life.

After a time, Hawke go to her feet, wiped her eyes, and turned them toward the low sun rising on the horizon. They had been traveling all night, and they had often come across trouble on the road, but had made good progress. As far as Hawke was concerned, the more distance between her and Kirkwall, the better. Slowly, she turned and headed the short way back to where they had camped. The others had been asleep when she had left them, they were of course exhausted, but overall her companions just seemed relieved to be alive. She was quite taken aback by how quickly they had bedded down, she had thought that there might have been some refusal by the others to share camp with Anders, or at least the adrenaline of their escape might have kept them awake. It seemed they had temporarily put all these things aside, under the silky black sky and the irresistible lure of a hot fire, and the soft downy grass. Hawke did not find it this easy to disengage however, and had kept watch over the others for most of the night. As she stepped through the trees, twigs snapped under her boots, sending a small animal scurrying for the undergrowth. It was a matter of metres before she was back in camp, nestled in a clearing amongst the trees. Her faithful Mabari hound was at her heels within a matter of seconds, before emitting a low, sorrowful whine.

"It's alright boy, I'm here. I'm fine, look if you don't believe me" she spread out her arms, as if to prove it. The dog gave her a look very close to disbelieving.

"Okay, so I'm not fine. But I'm no more battered and bruised than usual" she corrected herself. Somewhat satisfied, he jumped up, placing his huge paws on her chest and licking sloppily at her face with his tongue. Hawke couldn't help but laugh, and half wondered if Mabari had some magic of their own, in being able to bring their own unique brand of inexplicable merriment to such otherwise dark times. She almost jumped out of her skin as she realised she was not the only one of the party still awake. Her attention distracted, she had not noticed Anders, sat between the roots of a large tree not far away from her. As he stood however, the firelight had thrown his face into stark relief. He looked gaunt, far more than usual, and there were dark circles around his eyes. His expression looked so vacant, so lost, that for a moment that Hawke nearly forgot herself. He looked like a frightened child in a world full of strangers, and in that moment all she wanted to do was embrace him. Hawke wanted to hold him tightly and kiss away every one of his fears until they were all but forgotten, until all the Templars in Thedas had turned to dust. But it was not like that. His torture was self inflicted, and she would rather kill him than offer him reprieve from it. Of this much she was certain.

After a moment, he spoke, "You're alright. Good. I wondered where you'd gone"

Hawke did not trust herself to speak, still shellshocked and terribly angry, tonight was not the night to discuss what had happened. She sat on the ground next to Bethany, who was sleeping soundly, and pulled off her greaves. Her companions had positioned themselves in a semi circle around the fire, not too close together, but not too far apart that they didn't benefit from the shared warmth. Luckily, it was a fairly mild night, had it been winter they would all have frozen to death; they had limited equipment and had been thoroughly unprepared for the events which would cause them sleep rough in the forest.

"You should get some rest, we're going to have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow" Hawke murmured in reply, after a long pause. Anders said nothing as he sat back down looking, if possible, more agonized than before.

Hawke then proceeded to remove her gauntlets carefully, having no trouble with the left one but grimacing as her right arm stung with a new vigor as she pulled it free. Upon inspection it appeared the wound was no worse than any injuries she had incurred before, though the gash that spanned from her elbow to the back of her wrist was fairly deep, and would need attending.

Anders sat forward, tentatively, 'That looks painful, let me heal it for you."

"No, it's alright. I'll ask Bethany to do it in the morning" she replied shortly, proceeding to drag off the rest of her armor. Underneath she had on a thin, white cotton shirt and tight but breathable trousers which prevented her armor from rubbing at her skin. She was grateful for this, as sleeping in her armor was not an option, but neither would allowing the others to see her starkers, either. She did not even like to think of it.

Hawke searched through her pack quickly, taking out a set of bandages and beginning to wind them around her arm. On their escape from Kirkwall, Hawke had taken a quick detour to scavenge some additional supplies, which had thus far come in very handy

Anders was silent for a moment, before muttering in a tone barely distinguishable, "Well, now you're just being difficult."

Hawke froze. After a moment's pause, she threw the bandages onto the ground with a new found venom, and stood up. With a few quick footsteps she closed the remaining gap between them, stopping just in front of Anders and scowling down at him. She was about to open her mouth when there was a loud snapping sound nearby. Both she and Anders both looked around in unison, staring at Varric who stood just inside the tree line, looking apologetic.

"Just pretend I'm not here, won't you?" he asked, before muttering something about just wanting to go relieve himself and not get involved in some domestic.

Speaking in an undertone that was almost a threat, she continued, ignoring the dwarf, "Look. If you want to go there, we can go there. But I am tired, and fed up of your shit. So try me if you like, but don't say I didn't warn you..."

In the very periphery of her vision, she could see Varric backing away from the scene, very slowly. If the situation weren't so grave, it would have been funny.

"I'm sorry" Anders eventually ventured, "Really, I am."

"Get up, Anders."

His dark eyes flickered up toward hers, he did not look fearful, merely puzzled, "What?"

"I said, get up" she commanded again, calmly.

Despite his earlier words, Varric hesitated, "Hawke?"

Slowly, Anders got to his feet, looking more than a little nervous, though Hawke was at least a foot shorter than him, and completely unarmed, she was squaring up to him more than adequately. What made it worse, was that more often than not, her temperament was fairly mellow. He was not used to seeing her lose her temper, even in battle she only took lives when necessary, and then she took no pleasure in it. He was quite perturbed by this new, glowering, Hawke, a fact which was evident the minute you looked at his tense face. He had very little time to process these thoughts though, as Hawke struck him hard across the face. He stumbled backwards, clutching at his nose as it began to bleed, almost instantly.

"YOU'RE SORRY?" Hawke yelled at him, causing Bethany to jerk awake, "Why? Because you killed all those innocent people? Or is it due to the fact that down to your idiocy, I will be hunted for the rest of my life? Which thanks to you looks like it will be relatively shorter than I expected!"

Anders stood, leaning against the tree for support, holding his face in his other hand. He looked completely stunned, "You didn't have to stay with me..."

"I would have been hunted anyway! What did you think would happen, they'd be all. 'Well the Champion lived with him for three years, but she didn't _know _he was planting a bomb. Oh no, she seems such a nice girl, we'll leave her and her _apostate sister_, be.' Are you really that dense?" Hawke raged, feeling no desire to relent as Anders cringed before her.

Everyone in the camp was awake now, whether they were pretending to be asleep (in Merrill's case) or not.

The very sight of Hawke exploding like that had been enough to strike them all momentarily, dumb. The crickets which had been quite contentedly chirping in the tall grass had also fallen silent, as though afraid to make a sound in her presence,

Bethany was at her sister's side, watching her closely and looking almost as bemused as Anders. Varric, had positioned himself between the two, although perhaps unconsciously, he had made himself a fairly effective barrier.

In an attempt to placate Hawke and end the standoff, Varric spoke; "Fighting now isn't going to solve anything Hawke..."

Fenris was sat up, cross-legged on the ground. He almost looked eager, as though this was what he had been waiting for all along, "Oh I don't know, I think he deserves more than a good slap."

"And it would make me feel a damn sight better" Hawke agreed, panting.

"Then why didn't you kill me?" Anders asked her, seriously. The two stared at each other, and for those brief few seconds after he spoke, it was as if they were alone. As Anders' hazel eyes met Hawke's own steel grey ones, they shared an explicable instance where all others were drowned out. Anders felt an irresistible urge to reach out and touch her, as though if he could do this small thing that he could console her, stop her from hurting.

This was until Hawke launched herself at Anders again, Bethany and Varric barely catching her in time, "Why? WHY? By Andraste's frilly knickers, I WILL kill you Anders, you backstabbing, selfish, sodding nug-shagging bastard!"

"Nug-shagging?" Varric stared at Anders, "Is there something you need to tell us, Blondie?"

"I-" Anders turned and frowned at Varric, "What? No!"

Hawke stopped struggling against the others, turning away and rubbing her face with her hands. Talking to herself, she breathed, "I can't do this..."

Bethany followed her, guiding Hawke gently to one side and placing both her hands on Hawke's shoulders, "I can't pretend to know how you feel right now sister, but I know this isn't what you want." Bethany paused, "I also can't say that I blame you. But right now you need to get some rest. You did a good thing today, despite everything else. You got us out of there alive, but we still need you to stay strong."

Hawke nodded, feeling slightly ashamed, "I know. I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to remind me of that."

Bethany shook her head, "Don't be silly, I've never had to before. You've never failed us, and I know you won't now. You're just exhausted and, well..."

Bethany didn't finish her sentence, she didn't need to, Hawke knew what she had meant.

Hawke nodded again, turning towards the group and raising her voice, "I'm sorry."

Fenris lay back on the ground. The smirk still not leaving his face, he said, "Oh don't worry, I only wish I could have you smacking Anders senseless on repeat, all the time. It's the best night's entertainment I've ever had."

Sitting down again, Varric cast him a long glance, "You must be very lonely."

Despite looking completely bewildered, Anders seemed to have found his voice. Struggling to speak past his furiously bleeding nose, he snorted at Fenris, "Candid as ever, I see."

"I can be more candid if you'd like mage. I can candidly drive my blade up your-"

"Enough"Hawke had turned around, looking at them all. She did not need to say it twice.

After a lot of dark muttering and dirty looks, the party finally began to settle down again. Hawke began winding the bandage around her arm again, this time with a fierce intensity. Anders couldn't help but watch her, though it gave him an empty, aching feeling which throbbed in hist chest. It always struck him how beautiful she was, and amongst all this madness he couldn't help but appreciate the fact more. Hawke on the other hand, had caught him looking at her but decidedly ignored it, pulling a blanket from her pack and then disappearing beneath it. Only by her furrowed, angry brow and shock of long blonde hair could you identify that it was indeed Hawke beneath it.

Varric sighed, as he shifted uncomfortably on the bumpy ground, "You can stop pretending to be asleep now Merrill."

Merrill had remained beneath her blanket throughout the conversation, though she chimed up when Varric spoke to her, "I just don't like confrontation, that's all."

"A blood mage who doesn't like confrontation? I'll believe that when I see it" Varric replied, with a snigger. He turned to Anders, who was once again perched between the roots of the knotted tree, looking remarkably like a thoroughly ruffled cat, licking at it's wounds. Varric shook his head, before murmuring softly, "Settle down Blondie, I think Hawke's done beating you."

"It's never too late in the day for a game of toss the dwarf you know, Varric" a slightly muffled sounding Hawke interjected.

This put a very definite end to all conversation in the camp that night.


	2. A Wish and a Warning

Sorry this took so long, it would have only taken a week had my MacBook not decided to die on me spectacularly! Still, it's all good now. Thank you for all the feedback, it's been amazing I could not believe the amount of favourites/alerts the first chapter got. Double thanks to people who reviewed too, it's really lovely to know what people think. But I'm going to shut up now and let you read!

Chapter 2 - A Wish and a Warning

Hawke groaned as an annoying chirruping sound disturbed her sleep. She tried to ignore it but it felt as though it were drilling itself into her skull. With a sigh, she mumbled, "Anders, go kill that bird would you?"

She turned onto her side, reaching out for him. Much to Hawke's confusion, her extended fingers clutched at grass, not blanket as she realised her head was resting against a rock, not a much more comfortable pillow. After a brief moment's surprise, in which she struggled to remember where she was, the events of the night before came crashing back. Rolling onto her front she frowned, "Oh Maker."

On her other side she could she could feel her hound curled up contentedly beside her. Hawke reached out and stroked his soft ears, the sensation oddly calming somehow. As her memories came back, the dull pain that plagued her limbs returned. She stretched her tired legs, one of them felt stiff, and was difficult to move. She groaned in pain, her body was flagging, with no adrenaline and little sleep, there was nothing keeping it running anymore. Opening her eyes, Hawke looked up toward the sky. The trees around her stretched toward the pale morning sun, which was already a good way in it's path in the sky. They would have to move soon.

Sitting up, Hawke rubbed her head tiredly. She could not have had more than three hours sleep, and it had been restless at best. Leaning on her knees, she scanned the camp quickly. For the most part, everyone was still sleeping soundly (particularly loudly in Varric's case, so loudly in fact she was surprised he hadn't brought the Templars down upon them already). There was however, someone missing.

"Anders?" she called him quietly, a knot tightening in her throat.

The memory of his crestfallen face after she had hit him swam into her mind, and she dragged her boots from her pack, putting them on swiftly, fearful he may have done something drastic. She stood slowly and carefully, testing her weight on her aching leg, almost losing her balance as she gasped in agony. She limped forwards, calling to her Mabari, "Come on boy, come on. Where's Anders, where is he?"

Her hound sat up, growling at her words. Hawke had always thought that her dog had always been averse to Anders simply because he was a cat person, but now she thought about it, it may have been more to do with Justice. Mabari were always uneasy around areas where the veil was thin, or where demons roamed. Anders was almost a walking embodiment of everything a Mabari detested.

"Come on boy, please?" she implored him.

He cocked his head to one side, staring at her. Before running ahead of her and through the trees, barking happily.

Hawke shook her head, "I will never understand that dog."

Nevertheless, Hawke followed, making her way through the trees slowly. It was not long before he began barking again excitedly, and as she cleared the line of trees, Hawke saw Anders stood at the summit of the same small hill upon which she had been sat the night before. Her hound was bounding around him, and Anders was staring at him, looking perplexed. Hawke took a long stick which had fallen to the ground by her feet, and slowly, mindful of her fragile limbs, she picked her way up the hill towards him. As she reached Ander's side, she threw the stick as hard as she could into the valley below, causing her hound to go tearing after it enthusiastically. She turned to Anders, "I thought you'd gone."

He shook his head, not looking at her, instead gazing down at the countryside below.

Hawke shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, before turning her attention to him once more, "I shouldn't have hit you. Come here. Let me have a look."

She reached out tentatively and touched his face, relieved when he didn't recoil. Even at a first glance, his nose was obviously broken, the area around it was bruised and swollen, she had even managed to split his lip.

"You're lucky you're so handsome, otherwise the townspeople would be chasing you with pitchforks by now" Hawke mused.

Anders cocked an eyebrow, his eyes meeting hers, "Aren't they already?"

Hawke stroked the bruise down his cheek, wincing "That's true."

There was an awkward moment of silence, and they quickly looked away from each other. Hawke dropped her hand.

"I did deserve it though" Anders conceded.

"What the smack? Or the pitchforks?" Hawke asked him, with a ghost of a smile.

"Well, both. But I was referring to the smack" Anders replied, earnestly.

"I'd like to say I'm sorry, but..."

"You're not?"

"No."

"That's fair."

Anders regarded her carefully, before reaching out and taking her hand, "I really am sorry."

Hawke nodded, swallowing hard, "It's alright, you don't have to pretend anymore Anders."

Anders stared at her, "I don't follow..."

She avoided his eyes. The blase way in which she joked about it was a carefully crafted facade, one which she had perfected over the years. As Kirkwall's Champion, she had been forced to adopt something of a dispassionate, detached persona, something which reflected little of her real personality. Hawke had started out well, and she still held true to her beliefs, she fought corruption and always attempted to find the most peaceful course of action. However, she no longer felt the strong conviction she once had. Her mother's death had been the real catalyst, that and Ander's incapability at being a source of comfort despite his efforts. It moved her the most now, and she realised she barely knew who she was anymore, and with Ander's personality slowly slipping away to be replaced by Vengeance, she didn't know who he was either. It made her uncertain, and she questioned things which would have not considered before. Things that she needed to voice.

"Hawke?"

She refocused upon him, "I know why I had to distract the Grand Cleric now. I know why you had to get close to me - if you hadn't, I would have questioned what you were doing. You needed me to trust you." Aware her voice was shaking Hawke paused before continuing. "I also know that living with me must have seemed like the best way of protecting yourself. When you were with me, the Templars daren't touch you."

"Is that really what you think?" Anders asked her, looking horrified.

Hawke shrugged, " I don't know what to think."

"Hey," he closed the remaining gap between them, placing a hand on her waist and drawing her toward him. "Look at me."

Hawke stared at him, the terrible feeling that had been clawing at her chest dissipating slightly. She could not hold his gaze however, staring off into the distance at her hound, who was sat at the foot of the hill chewing his stick happily.

"I know what I've done is unforgivable. I do see that now, and I will do everything I can to make it up to you, I promise. And if you don't want me... Well, that's fine too. But I need you to believe me when I say that I didn't plan this. I never planned on you." He pressed his hand to her face, "I love you. How could I not?"

Ander's fingers felt oddly cold against her skin, but Hawke did not draw away. He ran a hand up her arm, feeling at the rough bandages, "Will you let me heal your arm now?"

She nodded, and without speaking he began to unwind the bandage slowly, careful not to cause her any pain. The bandages were stained dark with her blood, and she had lost far more than she expected. Seeing it seemed to remind her subconscious, and before she knew what was happening her knees buckled. Anders caught her swiftly, lowering her gently to the ground. Supporting her back with one arm he sat beside her, "Can you stay sat up?"

Hawke nodded, resting her spinning head on her unmaimed arm, holding back the sudden urge to be sick.

Anders knelt over her, looking incredibly worried. He almost felt responsible, if he had known her injuries were so bad, he would have demanded she had it seen to straight away. It was not like Hawke to ignore something like this, and in truth it was her mental state he was more concerned about. For several months he had been slowly becoming aware of the fact that Hawke had been repressing things, she barely talked about Carver, and she hadn't spoken about her mother since the day she died. It shocked him that he hadn't noticed this before, he had thought she was dealing with it in her own way, but perhaps that was just his own selfish reasoning. He had had more important things to worry about.

He brushed the hair out of her wan face, "How much sleep have you had?"

Hawke shook her head, "A few hours, I don't know. I kept having nightmares..."

Anders took her arm again as his fingertips began to glow blue. The wound began to close up, and a small amount of colour returned to Hawke's cheeks.

"Thank you" she murmured, her eyes still half-closed.

He sat down next to her, "You're exhausted, Hawke. You need rest."

"I'm just tired of it, Anders" she replied agitatedly. "It's hard being the one every looks to to pick up the pieces all the time, you know. And then I look around and who's there for me?"

"You still have me" he said.

"Yes, but I'm slowly losing you. I'm terrified that one morning I'm going to wake up and you won't be there anymore, it'll just be Vengeance. You can't imagine what that feels like" Hawke muttered, with something of an accusatory tone.

"No, I don't suppose I can." Anders paused, "But I can try my best to make sure it never happens."

"Your best?" she looked him, tiredly. "Don't you see Anders? I wish it wasn't so but your best is never good enough. You always lose."

He stared at her for a long time, for such a long time that Hawke was afraid of what he would do. To her complete surprise he reached out and pulled her onto his lap, "Then I suppose I'm going to have to try harder. I told you I'd make it up to you."

Anders pulled his coat around them both, to ensure she was comfortable, as Hawke lay between his legs, her head on his chest.

"We need to talk, about everything. But you're right, it's not the right time yet. I want to make sure you're safe first, then we can really have it out. You can even hit me again if you like" he murmured, holding her tightly.

Hawke tried to fight it, but nestled into his chest she just couldn't remove herself. It was the first time she had felt safe in days, though she knew how ridiculous this was. But she was with Anders, and though every logical thought screamed that it was a mistake, she was deaf to them. It was Ander's scent that surrounded her, his fingers tracing circles up her back, and his warm breath on her neck. It was almost intoxicating.

"Sleep for a while. We made good time yesterday and others aren't up yet. I'll wake you when we're ready to move" Anders concluded.

Hawke looked up at him, prepared to frown and tell him he was wrong, that he couldn't possibly know what was best for her, that she simply wanted him to leave her alone. This proved difficult however, as he caught her looking at him and smiled. It was that crooked smile that had always won her over, the earnest crease of his eyebrows, and the beguiling curve of his lips. It seemed even more potent this time however, as there was a fresh look about him, there was no frown hiding within his expression. Before she could stop and think about what she was doing, she reached up and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips against his. She felt his body tense almost immediately, and after a few fervid seconds in which they were both incapable of moving, he pulled away.

Eyes full of uncertainty Anders asked her, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Nodding slightly, she stroked her fingers down this back. She pressed her lips against his neck, tracing them up his collar bone, "Don't you want me, Anders?"

Anders didn't reply, merely staring at her for a few seconds, and she could almost feel the bound up tension within him. I didn't take him long to make up his mind however, as he pulled her against him, and kissed her with a renewed vigour. She relaxed, feeling a heaving sense of relief. Whether it was good for her or not, Hawke was painfully aware that she needed Anders. She needed the arms which pressed her close to him, and the heady, breathless kisses they shared. They remained like that for quite some time, lost once again in each other, until Anders stopped her reluctantly, "Please. It's taking all my strength to resist you but you need to rest, you're not well, Hawke. I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that, I'm sorry."

Resting her head against his chest, Hawke sighed, "You weren't, Anders. It's alright."

Anders sat with her until she fell asleep, and longer still. He still couldn't quite believe what had occurred in the last few hours. He had expected to be alone or imprisoned or most probably dead at this point, he had made no plans for what would happen next. His mind was clearer somehow, as though he were more himself. It made him hopeful, for once he felt like there was a future to look forward to. Maybe it was being away from the oppressive walls of Kirkwall, perhaps it was the fresh air, or maybe it was purely the fact the woman he loved had spared his life.

After a while, he stood and careful not to wake Hawke he carried her back to camp. He whistled to her hound who bounded after them, cheerfully oblivious to all that had occurred. It was not difficult, she was not heavy and Anders was stronger than he looked. He lay her back down on the grass and after removing his coat, Anders covered her with it. Hawke snuggled into it in her sleep, pushing her face into the fur-lined collar. It was surprisingly adorable for a woman so widely thought of as being exceedingly deadly, and Anders immediately decided it would be better all around if he did not inform her of this. He wanted to keep all of his teeth.

He sat heavily on the ground next to her, lost in his own thoughts. So distracted was he, Anders had not noticed that Fenris was sat cross-legged, wide awake and was currently boring a hole into the side of his head.

"What did you do? the elf demanded, looking incredibly fearsome for someone so slight.

Anders blinked, "What? Nothing."

Fenris got to his feet, stalking across the camp towards him, "Where did you take Hawke?"

"I didn't take her anywhere, she came to find me if you must know" Anders replied, testily.

"Why would she do anything of the sort after what happened last night?" Fenris asked, pacing back and forth, tempestuously.

"Maybe you should ask her that" Anders replied, dryly.

"Oh don't worry, I will" Fenris countered, an edge of menace to his words. "However you've bewitched her, whatever it is you've done, you'll pay for this."

"Bewitched her?" Anders scoffed, getting to his feet, a feeling of vicious curiosity had taken over him. "What is this about, Fenris? This isn't even a mage thing for once is it? This about Hawke."

Fenris watched him coldly, but did not say a word.

"This is because she chose me over you, isn't it?" Anders snarled, speaking over him as Fenris tried to interrupt, "Don't even try and deny it. I've seen the way you look at her, believe me I've given a lot of similar looks myself."

"I would be careful what you say, mage. Just because she's too decent to kill you, doesn't mean that I'd have a problem ripping your filthy little heart out" Fenris hissed, his voice threateningly low.

"Or maybe she didn't kill me because she loves me" Anders replied, folding his arms.

"She's taken in by you, that's all. No one could love an abomination" Fenris sneered.

Anders faltered, "I'm not an- Shut up, Hawke doesn't see me that way."

Fenris laughed humourlessly, "You're kidding yourself. We all think you're an Abomination, even Hawke."

'Why is it that you don't just kill me then? It's not like _you'd_ have a problem, tearing hearts out left right and centre, murder comes easy to you." Anders advanced on the elf, and they stared at each other.

"Ironic coming from a man who's just blown up a building full of innocent people" Fenris answered, quietly.

"Come on then, try it. Kill me" Anders glared at him.

Both men remained were they were for several seconds, each attempting to stare the other one down, a part of them hoping the other would start something.

After a time, Fenris wrinkled his nose, "You're disgusting, you don't even know who you are anymore, and frankly you're not worth my time."

Anders didn't move, watching the elf closely, "You're only confirming what I said. The only reason you having tried to kill me yet is because of Hawke."

"I don't care what you think, that's not my concern. You hurt Hawke again and then it becomes my concern. One wrong move, one small slip on your part, then it doesn't matter who tries to protect you, I will kill you. I promise you that."

Fenris turned his back on Anders; clearly in his mind the conversation was over. In the light of the morning sun, Anders stared after him as Fenris walked away and, despite himself, an ominous sense of foreboding crept through his bones.


	3. Of Saucepans and Sweetness

So yeah, I realise this has been a horribly long time to wait for this chapter, and there is no excuse. BUT the situation with my laptop has not improved (I had it fixed a month ago, and I need to take it in AGAIN - that makes it 3 times in about 4 months), so that hindered me loads. Anyway, I apologise for this chapter being a bit Hawke-centric, there will be more Anders squidgeyness soon, I promise, but the events in this one are kinda filling in the blanks between the previous and what's going to happen next.

Anyway, I'm actually uploading this on my birthday, how's that for dedication? ;) Hope you enjoy! 

Chapter 3 - Of Saucepans and Sweetness 

"I hate to admit it, Blondie, but watching thatsaucepan bounce off the top of your skull was hilarious" Varric chuckled, as he walked in pace with the mage.

"You don't hate to admit it at all. You're loving this" Anders replied ill-humouredly. He rubbed the top of his head absent-mindedly, "It bloody hurt too."

"Well, if you're going to suggest to a woman that she's only angry because it's her 'lady time' then should expect swift retribution. Especially considering said woman is Hawke" Varric said, shaking his head.

Anders frowned, "It _is_ that time of the month though-"

Varric stopped dead in his tracks, "That, my friend, is too much information." He raised an eyebrow, "And I think you're missing the point here."

Anders sighed, "This is ridiculous. I don't understand what she wants from me. Either she wants me around, or she wants me to leave. Instead I'm in this limbo."

"You don't think you deserve it?" Varric asked him, lightly.

Anders rubbed his eyes, "Of course. I just don't understand..."

"You blackmailed your way into getting your mage rebellion." Varric said, matter-of-factly, "Don't complain when it's not everything you hoped for, especially considering Hawke isn't the only one you lied to."

"It's not like that. I thought that I was going to die, that those people were going to be avenged... That it would make it better" Anders replied, and something in his voice rang of bitterness.

"If you think nearly forcing us to kill you makes it better then I think that demon's done something to your brain, Blondie" Varric replied, and for the first time Anders thought he sense some shortness in the dwarf's tone.

Earlier that morning, Anders had carefully awoken a sleeping Hawke, He had knelt over her, watching her closely as he brushed the hair out of her face. He was transfixed for a moment, as her fair eyebrows knitted together into a frown and she took a deep, exquisite rush of breath.

"Anders..." Hawke mumbled, stirring slightly.

Anders froze, gazing down at her surprisedly.

"Anders. Stop watching me sleep, it's creepy" Hawke continued, as her lips curved into an impish grin. Hawke opened her eyes, her expression alive with mischief, already recovered from the events of the night before.

Anders ignored this, stepping back and extending a hand towards her. Hawke regarded him for a moment, her silvery eyes sharp. It always unnerved him when she gave him that look. It was the kind of look that would stop a herd of charging buffalo in their tracks, one which seemed to strip you completely naked, right down to the bare bones of your soul. But there were only certain kinds of naked Anders wanted to be in front of Hawke, and he hated how one such look could be so utterly debilitating. He stared back defiantly, pulling her roughly to her feet as she accepted his extended hand. She fell against him, frowning slightly and he was struck as he had been many times before by the almost indecipherable hint of something feral in her eyes. Perhaps it was the flecks of mint green which flickered at the heart of the irises, fringing her pupils. Or maybe it was that something remained of the child that used to sneak out of her small ramshackle house to run with the wolves, only to be dragged home by a hysterical mother and a father who could barely hide his amusement. Whatever it was, there was something intangibly untamable about Hawke, as though something wild lurked beneath her beautiful features. Such a thought sent a shiver up his spine, something which she must have noticed as her features softened, as she smiled at him beguilingly

Anders cupped her cheek with one hand, unable to keep a grin from spreading over his own features, "How are you feeling?"

With a sweetness that a moment before he would have thought impossible, Hawke stood on her tiptoes before kissing him softly on the nose, "You shouldn't fret. I'm fine."

At this, she strolled off to rally the others. Anders often marveled at the subtle power Hawke held over others. It was something that perhaps even she was unaware of, but it was undeniably there. It was something few others possessed, and Anders had only met one other person whom's very presence demanded such loyalty. Though Hawke was both incredibly charismatic and charming and perhaps even a little intimidating, it was not this that defined her. It was as if there was something within her very bones dictated that she should lead, something written into every cell in her body. Whatever it was, it amazed and terrified Anders in equal measure. He watched her go, smiling ruefully. Despite every one of her faces, every paradoxical facet of her personality, she was, as always, his little wild thing.

Unfortunately, despite their rather warm greeting that morning, things had deteriorated from that point onwards. Hawke was back to her normal feisty self, and had gathered the others together once again in a matter of minutes. She had forsaken her Champion's armor for much simpler ranger armor she had worn when she had fought for the King of Fereldan. Over the top of this she wore a short green cloak, tied at the shoulder. All together, it was very fetching, and Anders couldn't help himself as his eyes travelled up Hawke's bare legs. She flashed him a grin as she saw him looking, before tying up her pack and stringing both her bow and blades across her back. At this, she folded her arms, waited for the others to gather around her, and explained her plan.

As for the plan. Well. Anders did not like it at all.

Hawke's plan was a deceptively simple one. It involved tracking a path to the nearest village, purchasing horses and traveling by coastal roads to the nearest major city; Ostwick. Once there they could lay low for a while, recuperate and assess their situation. She was slightly more hesitant as she revealed the second part of her plan, as she nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced briefly in Anders' direction. Once they reached Ostwick, Hawke stated that she was going to return by ship to Ferelden. Anders recoiled immediately, as though slapped. Yes, Ferelden was his place of birth, yes he often returned in hazy sunlit dreams, but the thought of going back made him physically sick to his stomach. The others, however, had reacted far less dramatically, Varric had even lamented the fact he could not join them. This was due to his having to remain close to Kirkwall, and to Bartrand. His brother was now being taken care of in a hospice not far outside of the city, and Varric was understandably reluctant to leave him. He had however, promised to travel with them to Ostwick, until things in Kirkwall had calmed down and he could return to the city. Hawke had joked that he would have to, or who would remain to exaggerate and expand on her tale until it not long resembled what exactly had happened at all. The humour in her smile didn't quite reach her eyes however, and it was obvious she would miss the dwarf more than she was letting on. Merrill had remained quiet throughout most of the conversation, and had been very vague about her intentions. Anders assumed this was because of what had happened with her clan, whom had effectively banished her. The little blood mage's future was incredibly uncertain.

Anders had turned away angrily, a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt Hawke's eyes on his back, as the others shifted uncomfortably around him. At this point, however, another voice had interrupted them.

"I'll come with you, if you wish me to remain" Fenris said, sweeping a lock of white hair from in front of his eyes, looking at Hawke thoughtfully. Anders glared back at him, incredibly doubtful of Fenris' sincerity. Since Hawke had spent a night with him all those years ago, Fenris had always kept a respectful distance from her. Lately however, Anders couldn't help but notice how much closer they seemed. Hawke however, was practically beaming from ear to ear, and Anders felt an all too familiar stab of jealousy. He was well aware of the stern young elf's effect on most young women's libido, and clearly Hawke was no exception to this. She had at least had strong feelings for him, and Anders found himself wondering if she had even at one time been in love with him. Something heavy stirred in his chest, gnashing it's teeth and unfurling it's claws. Fenris was too late, if he wanted her, he would have to come through Anders.

Anders' turned his bitterness on Hawke, and in a somewhat ill-considered fashioned expressed his very definite and intense dislike of her plan. A few harsh words were exchanged and, rather inevitably, the saucepan was launched at Anders' head, and Hawke had resumed giving him the silent treatment.

Later that day, and still walking alongside Varric, Anders continued his tirade, "She didn't even consult me."

"She was pretty angry at you. You're not surprised, surely?" Varric asked his friend, doubtfully.

"I know. But you know what they'll do to me if I go back to Ferelden."

"It can't be worse than what they'd do to you in Kirwall." Varric shrugged.

"How comforting" Anders replied sarcastically. "Look, I'm not completely unreasonable. But you don't know how it feels - just the thought of the Circle in Ferelden terrifies me. The thought of what they would do to me if they got hold of me again..."

"Make you tranquil? You have just as much chance of that happening if you stay here-"

"You shouldn't speak of it so lightly, Varric. Can you even imagine what it would be like? To lose yourself so entirely like that? Would you even want to imagine it?" Anders replied, looking at the dwarf earnestly.

"I'm not taking it lightly. I just know you would be better off staying with Hawke, that's all." Varric backpedalled slightly, "Not that you're a man who needs protecting, Maker knows you can protect yourself, but you and Hawke have been there to watch each other's backs and you've made it through things others wouldn't. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Anders shifted uncomfortably, "Yes..." He scratched the back of his neck, "I suppose."

"And wouldn't you rather be with Hawke?" Varric asked him.

"Undoubtedly."

"Well then just talk to her" Varric said, patting him on the shoulder.

Anders frowned, "You're good at this. Since when were you so good at this?"

Varric grinned, "Why do you think I stay single?"

"You're just too much man-muffin for one woman to take, Varric?" Anders asked, keeping a miraculously straight face.

Varric chuckled and shook his head, "You'll learn, kid."

"Sister!" Bethany called out, jogging to catch up to the senior Hawke.

After her argument with Anders in the camp that morning, Hawke had stalked off ahead of the others, making some flimsy passing excuse that she was going to scout ahead. It was fairly obvious however, that her real reasoning was that she wanted to as far away from one of her mage companions in particular, as possible.

Though Hawke's bow was tense in her hands, and her eyes did not leave the path through the trees in front of them, she lowered her bow a fraction as Bethany approached. Hawke's hound was trailing behind her, snuffling happily at the ground. apparently very excited about the new, alien smells of the forest. Remarkably, he was the only member of the party who seemed unaffected by the argument.

Without turning, Hawke replied softly, "I don't want to talk about it, Bethany."

Since Hawke had stormed off ahead, the group had become somewhat segregated. Anders himself had become even more brooding than usual, and had dropped to the back of the group. Varric has joined him, perhaps hoping to talk some sense into the young mage. This had left Bethany with Merrill and Fenris. Bethany had always had a somewhat strained relationship with both such companions, but there was little animosity left between her and Fenris since he had sided with Hawke and the mages. Since Merrill has been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the journey (perhaps somewhat subdued at having had to leave her home) Bethany had been making polite conversation with Fenris. It amazed her sometimes that a man who could come across as such an ogre, was in actuality so intelligent and... decent. Despite this, he still made her nervous in a way she didn't like, and after several hours of traipsing through the woods and sharing a few strained words with him every so often, she grown weary of it and gone on ahead to speak to her sister.

"Well. you're just going to have to, because I'm not leaving, at least not until you explain what's going on" Bethany replied, stubbornly.

Hawke turned, running her hand through her blonde curls. She gave a sister a long look, one which would have turned many a templar's legs to jelly. Bethany merely raised an eyebrow, "You know that doesn't work on me."

Hawke sighed, though a shadow of a smile tugged at her lips, "It was worth a try." She lowered her bow, kicking at the dirt with her boot, "I told you about Anders and me years ago."

"Yes, but I didn't realise it was so... " Bethany paused, scrutinising her sister carefully. "I only had letters to go on. Besides, I always thought that you and Fenris-"

Hawke rubbed her face, "Oh, don't go there. We were. It's complicated. But afterwards Anders was there, and he was so..." Whatever he was, Hawke did not say, but from the faraway look in her sister's eyes, Bethany could tell she was remembering happier times. As though suddenly refocusing, Hawke looked at her, "Well, we've been together ever since."

"I've missed out on a lot haven't I?" Bethany said, regretfully.

"There's nothing you can say that I haven't already heard or thought myself. I know what he did. Maker, the whole of Thedas probably knows what he did by now..." Hawke said shaking her head.

Bethany shrugged her shoulders sympathetically, "It's... Difficult. What he's done is unforgivable. But I always liked Anders, he reminds me a little of dad."

Hawke nodded, "Me too."

"For what it's worth I think you did the right thing" Bethany said, agreeably. "He needs to atone, somehow."

"I don't know if that's why I did it, though. That's what I tell everyone, but deep down it's not that" Hawke said, resting her hand against a nearby tree, averting her eyes from her sister's. "I love him, Bethany."

Bethany stared at her sister for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips.

Hawke looked at her quickly, her voice sounding a little harsh, "What's funny?"

Bethany stepped forward, placing a hand on her sister's arm, "I just never thought I'd hear you say that. My fiercely independent big sister, who used to break the fingers of any man who was foolish enough to try anything. Well, that or steal his coin purse... Or tell his wife."

Hawke rubbed her eyes, "We all have our weaknesses, Bethany."

"And yours is a runaway mage with a split personality and a cat fetish?" Bethany asked laughingly. "That is brilliant."

Hawke frowned, "There are worse people. Like Sandal for example."

Bethany sniggered at this, before continuing, "You know what I meant. As I said, I like Anders. And I think it's incredibly sweet."

Hawke groaned, embarassedly, "I knew you would... You're almost as bad as Merrill."

"It's just all so very romantic, K-"

"Don't" Hawke cut across her quickly, her voice much sharper than usual, before she amended, "Please. No one's called me that since mother died."

Bethany blinked, "But that's your name."

"Everyone else just called me Champion, or Hawke."

Bethany folded her arms, frowning, "What about Anders?"

Hawke glanced away, and for perhaps the first time since they were young girls, Bethany saw a pink tinge appear at Hawke's cheeks. Hawke was blushing, quite furiously too.

"He calls me other things..." she replied, awkwardly.

Bethany couldn't help herself. Giggling profusely, and without warning, she embraced her sister. Hawke tensed, momentarily stunned.

"Oh dear sister, you're completely smitten aren't you?" Bethany grinned.

"Shut up" Hawke replied, tersely, thought it was too late to hide the slight smile that had stretched, unbidden, across her face.

"What are you two giggling about?" an intrigued sounding voice enquired.

The pair turned around, only to find themselves faced with the entirety of the rest of the group, who during the sister's brief pause had caught up with them. Anders stood at the forefront, his arms folded, waiting expectantly for an answer to his question.

"Nothing, really..." Hawke replied, nonchalantly, before her sister dragged her off into the treeline, laughing as she cried, "Tell me everything!"

Anders stared at the others, nonplussed, "Why are my ears burning?"

But Bethany and Hawke didn't get far. Hawke stopped suddenly, grabbing at her sister's arm and pulling her backwards. Her hound sniffed the air and barked uncertainly, before charging off ahead of them.

"Wait Boy, come back!" Hawke called, though she did not follow him, freezing instead and listening intently. Gingerly, she stepped forwards, shielding Bethany protectively as she discerned figures among the trees. "Whoever you are, come out. I don't want to harm you, but if you force my hand I won't hesitate."

Her hound was still barking nearby, and as she moved closer, Hawke could hear him growling. There was a sudden yelp, a crunch, and a figure staggered towards them from the shadows. In a moment Anders was at her side as, as one, the group surveyed the potential threat.


	4. Kiss With a Fist

Sorry about the horrendously long wait on this one. Computer problems and writer's block did not make it easy, but here it is! Hope you like it, if you do tell me why, if you don't, also tell me why. Right. Back to Skyrim it is! Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - A Kiss With a Fist

"Could you stay your dog for a moment, Shem?" a harassed looking elf asked them, as he materialised almost like a vapour from the line of trees in front of them. Hawke's hound had his jaws locked around the cuff of the elf's glove, and was tugging on it whilst emitting a low, menacing growl. Hawke regarded the elf at length, and did not lower her blades. He appeared fairly young, and from the tattoos on his face and his sage coloured armor, she identified him almost immediately as Dalish, one of the truly "free" elves who lived in the forests and wilderness of Thedas. She eyed the mage' staff strapped to his back cautiously.

"Both of them" he added agitatedly, glancing at Anders who stood next to her, a fist of fire in his hand.

"Do you know who you're speaking to?" Fenris growled as the smile slipped from the elf's face.

"You are Hawke" he said nodding towards her, his voice sounding almost accusing.

"And will that be a problem?" she asked, coldly.

He shook his blonde head, "The worries of Shemlen are not mine. That is until they are brought to my doorstep."

Hawke frowned, her cool slipping for a moment, "Hound. Heel."

With some reluctance, the dog retreated, returning to Hawke's side. The elf watched them interestedly, his mouth curved into a smirk.

"I still think that's a stupid name for a Mabari. Hound? Really? You couldn't have thought up something more inventive than that?" Anders mused, forgetting his annoyance for a moment.

"It was the only thing he'd respond to when I found him. And he _is_ a hound, it's not like I called him Puss or something" Hawke replied, defensively.

"It's okay, Hawke. You just stick to killing things. If we ever come to the point where we need to do some actual thinking, well, you leave that to us" Varric grinned.

"I think it's a nice name... It's sort of, ironic" Merrill interjected in her, faraway, effervescent way.

"It's better than Sir Pounce-A-Lot anyway, I think we can all agree on that" Hawke countered.

"Oh yeah."

"Agreed."

"Undoubtedly."

"Is that even a question?"

Anders folded his arms, reproachfully, "Hey! It's not that bad."

The elf in front of them looked slightly dumb-founded as he watched the interplay of words between them; truly, he had never met a stranger bunch of people.

"Erm...?" he interjected, weakly, scratching his head. His mysterious facade was quickly slipping from him.

Hawke shook her head, "I'm sorry. This sort of... Happens sometimes. What is it you want? Is there a child in need of rescuing from a well? Or perhaps a damsel up a tower somewhere?"

"Kitten up a tree?" Anders enquired.

"Is that all you think about?" Fenris frowned, shaking his head.

"It has to be demons. It's always demons. I'd bet five gold on it being demons" Varric said, confidently.

The elf stepped towards her, slightly fazed by the bizarre wordplay between the heavily armed group. He rested a hand on her shoulder familiarly, before leaning forward and murmuring in her ear, "You do know you're being followed?"

Hawke nodded, her demeanor switching sharply to serious, "I had hoped that was you."

Bethany stared at her sister, "And when were you going to mention this?"

"They've been following us since we entered the forest, I wasn't sure of their intent and I didn't want to worry you." She scratched the back of her neck uneasily, "They're not Templars, this is far too... Subtle for them. I didn't want to scare them away if they were potential allies, maybe even other mages."

"I don't know why you're so surprised, it's not like our opinions matter or anything. No, no, we just get told things at the last minute and are expected to go along with whatever harebrained scheme she's come up with..." Anders muttered, sulkily.

"My harebrained schemes have never caused us harm before" Hawke scowled.

"That's not exactly true Hawke. I have several scars which counter that argument" Varric contested, with a smirk.

"You should have told us" Anders interjected.

"Yes, well I didn't" Hawke snapped, gritting her teeth.

Fenris had remained very quiet about the subject, and Hawke couldn't help but think that he too had sensed they were being followed. As she glanced in his direction he nodded, as though he understood.

Hawke sighed, massaging her temples before looking at the lone elf, "Why would you help us?"

The elf surveyed her for a few seconds, and Hawke felt a nagging feeling of deja vu.

"You aren't exactly how I remember you" the elf mused. "You always were something of a wild child. I thought you'd grow to be a little taller, although I suppose you're still easy on the eyes, for a shemlen."

"Should I know you, elf?" Hawke replied, frowning.

He stepped a little closer, eyes boring into hers, "You should, human."

From somewhere a little to the right of her shoulder, Anders shifted uncomfortably.

Hawke scrutinised the elf for a moment. Handsome, if a little overconfident. Strong jawline. Boyish demeanor. Easy charm. Suddenly it clicked.

"Tibris."

"I knew you'd get there eventually" he grinned wolfishly.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Hawke replied, a smile spreading across her face. She turned quickly to her sister, "You probably don't remember. I couldn't have been much older than 16, myself. Don't you remember dad's old friend Arthal?"

Bethany frowned, still looking rather displeased with her sister, "Vaguely. Tibris, you're his son?"

Tibris nodded, "I remember you, though you were only small. And Carver. He's not with you?"

Bethany shook her head to hide the pain in her expression, "He died, a few years back now. The blight."

The smile slipped from his face, "I didn't know that. My condolences. I had heard about your father. We were very sorry to hear it."

Bethany nodded, "I remember your father and ours being close, it's good to know we have some friends out here."

"As touching as this all is, we can't stay here" Anders sounded exasperated. "Or did you forget we're being followed?"

"He's right" Hawke agreed, grudgingly.

Tibris looked at her earnestly, "My father would be glad to see you, I'm sure of it. Come back to our camp, and we can see if we can help you with your problem. It's not far, a few hours walk."

Hawke scrutinised him with the lift of an eyebrow, "You're out here alone?"

Tibris gestured for her to follow and Hawke fell into step alongside him as the others trailed behind, "Much faster and quieter, and I can handle a little action. I was scouting the forest, there's been a lot of movement lately. Lost refugees from Kirkwall, Templars. You've caused us all sorts of trouble."

"It's a talent" Hawke shrugged. "But how do you know about that?"

"Asha'bellanar."

Hawke stared at him, dumbfounded, "Flemeth? She... It, whatever. She was here?"

Tibris nodded, "You'll have to ask my father if you want to know anymore about that though I'm afraid. Though she is something of a, and I use the term loosely, friend to the Dalish. Asha'bellanar rarely talks to anyone other than the Keepers."

Hawke sniffed, "Cold bitch."

Tibris laughed, "Tell me about it. My wife hates her."

"You're married? Oh that's brilliant!" Hawke grinned.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Tibris frowned.

"Of the three of us, I always thought you'd be the last to be married."

"She's lovely actually" he replied, huffily.

"I wasn't disputing that. I can't wait to meet her."

"You're still wearing that thing?" Tibris remarked casually, nodded to the barely concealed necklace around her neck. It consisted of an old worn key and a piece of silver stamped with the Hawke crest, looped through a long piece of scarlet ribbon tied at her throat.

"Old habits die hard. Have you heard from Darrien at all?"

Her companion looked worried for the first time, "No. Nothing. You?"

Hawke shook her head, "Not since I left Lothering."

"I'm sure he's okay, he always was resourceful" Tibris said, reassuringly. Hawke did not share his confidence.

"I'm guessing you aren't married then? Not from what I've heard anyway" he continued, changing the subject without subtlety.

"No" Hawke shook her head remaining expressionless and betraying little of her thoughts on the matter.

Tibris glanced back at Anders, knowingly. Anders, who had been alert and listening to their conversation, raised an exasperated eyebrow at him, "It's not like I haven't asked."

Hawke coughed uncomfortably.

* * *

The two continued to talk as the trees became more dense and it was difficult to see the ground as the sky darkened. The group were almost squeezing their way between the trees as they neared the camp, which Anders assumed must be somewhere near the heart of the forest. He had been eavesdropping on most of their conversation, and the more he heard, the less he understood. Frustrated and tired, he said little to the others. Evidently, noticing his overt sulkiness Fenris glanced over at him and smirked as he sidled past.

"What?"

Fenris shook his head, "Just the look on your face."

Clearly sensing the heightening resentment between the two, Bethany calmly interjected and dragged Anders aside, leaving Fenris to join Merrill and Varric's rather odd conversation concerning who they would rather see dipped in nug dung; Meredith or Orsino. Meredith was winning, barely.

"You know, if you're trying to win my sister back you aren't doing a very good job of it" Bethany mused.

Anders groaned, "Oh not this again. I've already felt the wrath of one Hawke woman today and I still have a huge lump on my head to prove it."

Bethany laughed, "I'm not going to hit you, or lecture you for that matter. It's just I know she's hardly happy either, it's a difficult situation."

"Difficult is an understatement" Anders said, with a sigh. He glanced at Hawke ahead of them, as she jumped deftly over a fallen tree. His heart felt heavy in chest.

"They're just old friends, you know. A group of Dalish were camped near Lothering when we were kids, everyone kept their distance except, of course, for my sister. She was out in the woods nearby one day and she was attacked by a bear, and despite being quite ferocious for a twelve year old armed with a dagger, it still would have killed her had Tibris' father not heard the commotion and intervened to save her. Our families have been close ever since. As it was, the Dalish stayed on a little longer than usual, probably because of the increasing Darkspawn numbers. Tibris and my sister grew up together, really. It was always hard for her to make friends, not that you would think it now, and they always got on so well. Our fathers always encouraged it, but it was never like _that_" Bethany said, in a rather obvious attempt to comfort him.

"Who's Darrien?" he asked her, far too quickly. Immediately, he was agitated with himself for sounding so needy, so jealous. He knew that Hawke had been with other men in the past, as he had been with other women, the thought shouldn't bother him. However, the hushed tones in which Hawke and Tibris had discussed him had only piqued his interest, and the fact she clearly kept a keepsake to remind herself of him. He had seen the necklace before, and now he thought about it she was rarely seen without it. He had had no idea of it's significance. He frowned and continued, "Sorry, it's just she's never mentioned him before."

Bethany paused before replying, considering her words carefully, "Darrien lived in our village. He was born a mage too and when my sister and Tibris found out, instead of telling the Templars, they became friends. However, it isn't really my place to say. Everyone has a skeleton or two in their cupboard, Anders. I suggest you leave that one alone until she's ready to talk about it."

"Now my ears are burning" Hawke grinned uncertainly as she walked towards them, Tibris watching curiously a few metres away. "The camp is just in the valley over that ridge, it might be another hour or so but we're nearly there."

She pointed behind her, to where the land slanted abruptly upwards. Taking stock of his surroundings for the first time, Anders was suddenly aware of the sound of rushing water and a faint lilting music on the evening air.

"Anders, can I talk to you for a moment? Before we go on?" Hawke looked at him expectantly.

"Of course" he replied, his throat feeling dry.

They hung back, allowing the rest of the group to pass them by, until they were almost out of earshot but not out of sight. Despite all the distractions, neither had forgotten that there was someone, or something, trailing their path.

* * *

Hawke looked at Anders, breath shuddering in her throat. Though she had been with him all this time, even though she was impossibly angry with him, he still managed flip her stomach with a look. His expression was bemused and his dark brown eyes weary, making him look older then his years. Hesitantly, she took hold of his hand as they walked in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, she ventured, "What do you make of all this?"

"You're asking my opinion now?" he replied stubbornly.

Hawke chose to ignore this, merely gazing at him seriously, "Yes."

"He's your friend not mine. If you trust him then so do I, I have little choice in the matter."

"Don't say it like that, what else could I do? And you do have a choice, you could leave if you wanted" Hawke replied, quietly.

"I'm not going to do that."

Hawke did her best not to look quite so relieved. She tripped slightly over the uneven ground, and Anders tightened his grip on her hand. With his free hand he conjured a light so they could better see their way. Uneasily, Fenris glanced briefly in their direction.

Hawke looked up at Anders unassumingly, "Does this mean you're talking to me?"

Anders folded his arms, a complete bluff as his conviction was so obviously slipping with every passing moment, "Perhaps."

"Did I ever tell you that you look cute when you sulk?" Hawke purred, smiling at him.

"Hawke. This isn't funny" Anders frowned at her.

In the dim light Hawke could see clearly the bruises which lined his cheekbone from the punch she had thrown at him only a few nights before.

She glanced down at the ground, "Does this mean you're coming with me to Ferelden?"

Anders grimaced, "I'm coming with you. I don't want to, but I am."

"I suppose I can't expect anymore than that. Thank you" Hawke nodded. Looking over at Anders again she couldn't help but notice how pale he looked in the soft glow. Concerned she leant forwards despite herself, running a hand through his hair, "You don't look well."

"I don't feel well" he chuckled, humourlessly. "Bodies aren't built for two."

"Anders-"

He smiled at her crookedly, "But if you still think I look cute then I suppose that's alright. I've had preferred handsome or dashing, mind you."

They had come to a small clearing, and Hawke stopped for a moment, "Anders. You're right. You do know this is killing you don't you?"

He avoided meeting her gaze, "Neither of our life expectancies are exactly great, dear."

"And you expect me to watch you kill yourself?" Hawke said testily. "Don't you think it's time? You and Justice, it isn't working. Don't you want to be free? So it could be just us..."

Anders pulled away from her violently, "You know I can't. Kirkwall was just the start. I can't believe you're asking me this!"

"It will never be enough and you know it. Vengeance will never stop, not until every last templar is dead and you with them" Hawke snapped, her eyes stinging.

"It's important, I can't just give up on everything we've worked for. I warned you when I met you that I would only break your heart-"

"Oh don't start with that again. You were giving it all that, whilst all the while you wanted me just as much as I did you" Hawke answered, angrily.

"Of course I did" Anders replied, somewhat more calmly. "That has never changed. What I mean is, you knew what you were getting into."

"Yes, well I though that someday it would change. That I would come first" Hawke looked, down at her feet. "And then you wonder why I won't marry you."

"Well, how could you ever marry someone like me?" Anders growled.

She stared at him aghast, "You know I don't see it that way. It doesn't matter to me that you're a mage, or where you came from. What does matter to me is that you're sharing your body with a demon and it's killing you." In an effort to appease him she stepped closer, "I just want you. Can't you understand that?"

"When you can't even accept me as I am? This is who I am, me and Justice are one and the same" Anders snapped, his eyes flaring a dangerous blue.

Hawke shook her head, "I don't believe that. The Anders I know would follow me into the Deep Roads and back, the entire time complaining about how he was going to get dirt on his robes. He'd climb a tree to save a blighted cat, heal a complete stranger without asking for thanks and try and go drink for drink with Varric in the Hanged Man until he ended up under the table! I've seen that side of you, and I know it's the real one. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn't blow up a Chantry."

There was a silence between them in which he stared at her, and for a brief moment she thought he had listened, that just perhaps he had understood. That was until he frowned and his eyes dropped from hers, "I know what you want, but I just can't give it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hawke asked, barely able to contain her own anger, her heart beating hard and panicked against her chest.

"I am Justice. And I can't be anything else."

It might have been different if he has at least looked sad, or apologetic or something other than defiant. His eyes were flat, as though he were stating a simple fact or equation she was failing to understand. As her hands once again balled into fists, Hawke took a deep, calming breath. She stood back and really looked at him, and it was like she could see the demon that lived within him for the first time. The air around him seemed to crackle, white hot as his magic melded with Justice's own power, casting an eery glow over his wan skin. It shocked her that she never noticed how thin he was, how ill he looked. How lifeless.

"I should have stopped it before it got this far" Hawke said, her voice shaking.

It was like flicking a switch, as he acknowledged her words and snapped out of it. He gazed at her, completely thrown, "What are you saying?"

She wondered, dumbly, if had been an act all along. If it was just Justice using a body as puppet, or if Anders was still in there somewhere, fighting to hold onto his identity. As she stared into his eyes, even as they stirred with unknown emotions, she knew that he had given up. He had given in to the spirit, accepted it and welcomed it into his very soul. Now Justice was something closer to a demon, Anders still felt no desire to extradite it from his body. He was the very kind of mage her father had hated, her sister struggled continuously never to become, and many of whom Hawke had been forced to put down.

"Those people in the Chantry - their deaths are my fault. I knew you were an abomination, but I never realised what you were doing to yourself, what you could possibly do to others. Because you were mine, I never realised how dangerous you were." Hawke folded her arms, fingernails digging into exposed skin as she gripped herself tightly. She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and upon seeing the panic within them, had to mentally push herself to continue. Slowly, she pulled one of her blades from her back, holding it loosely in her hand. She looked at it thoughtfully for a moment all too aware that Anders was watching her, all the while looking hurt and confused.

"I can't kill you, but neither can I allow this to go on" Hawke said flatly, as tears filled her eyes. He took a step toward her, and Hawke shifted backwards, "I still love you, I want you to know that, but it isn't enough Anders."

"Hawke."

She turned her back on him, wiping a tear from her cheek dismissively, "The Templars will think you are still with us, this is your best chance if you want to outrun them."

"No, you can't do this. I-"

"Just go, Anders" Hawke started walking towards the others up ahead, oblivious to the events occurring behind them.

"But, Kitty please..."

Hawke hesitated at the use of her first name, looking back over her shoulder at him. An odd whistling sound filled her ears, followed by a soft thump. She only had a second, in which she looked to Anders and saw the terror with which he regarded her. Then her world exploded with pain. Hawke slowly looked down at her thigh, and at the arrow embedded within it. Staring at the bloody puncture in her leg Hawke didn't see the second arrow fly through the air, higher than the first. It her in the chest, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. She lay there for a moment as the world dimmed, slowly going black as she listened to the staggered, desperate hitching of her own breath.


	5. Awakening

So, check me out huh. I have another chapter for you, because I love you all so much. That isn't really the reason, of course, I'm just inspired. But if you read and enjoy my story then I automatically love you, anyway. =)  
So after some technical difficulties (starting an argument with the hash key because I couldn't find it) this chapter's ready, I'm not sure what I think of it, but as always I hope you like it.

The quotes in italics are taken straight from the game, of course.

Chapter 5 - Awakening

When Hawke awoke, it was not with a gentle opening of the eyes and a rushing of breath. It was with screams and cries of agony and a blur of motion as she was carried in someone's arms, rain splashing her face. As she drifted between restless, distorted dreams and the white hot pain of waking, she was laid down on a bed as strong arms held her firmly until the pain dimmed and she ceased her fevered struggling, falling against the mattress. Her confused mind half wondered if it would be easier just to let go, so the hurt, the fighting and the constant battles would finally be over. Event as she thought this, she was aware of arms cradling her, and a single voice in the dark.

"Please, no. You can't die. Please..."

Anders.

It was almost as if time slowed down as the arrows hit her. Anders heard himself shouting as though it were another man, as he fell onto his knees next to Hawke. Panic coursed through his veins as he held her, desperately calling sparks to his fingers. His magic took a moment to come, as though muted, staggered as he was by the utter shock of what had happened, and who lay before him. He could remember little after that apart from Hawke's screams of agony, which had created a sound that he would never forget for as long as he lived. Tibris had grabbed Anders roughly by the arm, and yelled at him to get moving. He had sprinted after the elf, Hawke in his arms. The others had trailed behind, protecting them until they were clear, he was unsure what had happened to them after that. The last thing he had seen was Fenris streaking off in the opposite direction, following a dark shadow in the trees.

"I wish I had good news for you, I'm sorry."

The words of the Keeper shook him from his dull revery, as the older man rested a hand on his shoulder. His mind was a blur, eyes set on his shaking hands. It had been three long hours, but still he had not stopped shaking. Dried blood covered his hands and arms to the elbow, Hawke's blood, and his body ached from running through the forrest, carrying her in his arms. None of this even seemed to register however, in comparison to the crippling dread which seemed to be holding his insides hostage, clutching at his throat. Anders slipped his head into his hands, so as to hide his stinging eyes. He was sat in a long elven tent, the Keeper's, and in the adjacent room Hawke lay alive but barely. Mayra, Tibris' wife and the keeper's daughter-in-law, was tending to her. It had been two long hours since they had forcibly removed Anders from her side, despite his staunch refusal. Ever since, he had remained slumped in that same chair in silence, his eyes never moving from the doorway for more than a minute. It pained him to think that she might awaken or that take a drastic turn for the worse and he was not there. It didn't matter to him that he was physically drained after having been keeping her alive with a constant stream of his own healing magic, or that due to this he was so weak that he had difficulty moving around without another's aid.

At Keeper Arthal's words he got to his feet, fixing his eyes on his face, "What can I do?"

On the other side of him Tibris gripped his shoulder tightly supporting him lest he fall.

The elf looked at him kindly, "You've done an excellent job so far, but that's as much as any of us can do I'm afraid. It's out of our hands now."

It was clear that the younger mage's dubious expression was not lost on him. The keeper glanced at Anders, his blue eyes so penetratingly intense it almost felt he was reading his mind, "What I mean to say is that her wounds are healed over, however she is very weak and has lost a lot of blood. I do suspect that if she's as tenacious as she was as a girl, then she'll pull through. We just have to trust in her strength, and in the meantime make sure she's as comfortable as possible."

Anders swallowed. That phrase struck him almost as hard as when the second arrow had hit her. Making someone comfortable had always been a sentence he had associated with death, to apply it to Hawke seemed unreal. She was so spirited, so headstrong that he couldn't imagine a life without her own personal brand of mischief stamped fiercely across it.

"Please, can I see her?" he asked, earnestly.

Arthal looked hesitant, "You need to get something down you, you need rest."

"How can I sleep? Or eat?" Anders replied, his face set with grim determination.

After surveying him for an inordinate amount of time, Arthal nodded and motioned from his son to help Anders into the next room. Bethany was sat at the foot of the bed, holding her older sister's hand tightly as Mayra sat close by. It was silent as they entered, as both women looked over at him. Bethany stood, carefully returning Hawke's pale hand to the covers. She turned to him and to his surprise tentatively put her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. Far from it being awkward as he had expected, the small action was a comfort. Something about her scent reminded him of Hawke and it was as though the sisters shared the same aura of calm, even as he could feel the shuddering of Bethany's chest as she fiercely held in her emotions. He accepted her warmly, squeezing her gently with all the sincerity and energy he could muster. She drew away from him, smiling weakly and it was that same Hawke grin characteristic to the entire family. He marveled at how he had never noticed such striking similarities until now. It was the same as their mother's, the woman whom he had expected to hate him, but against all expectation had welcomed him into her home. Admittedly, this was only after Hawke had told her in no uncertain terms that she would not be marrying some upstart noble from Orlais, and accidentally unveiled the secret of their relationship in the process. The memory brought a brief lift to his spirits.

"Thank you for bringing my sister to safety."

To have a companion in his grief alleviated a pressure on his chest a little, though it did nothing to stay the guilt in his heart. He looked over at Bethany, determined to meet her eyes, "It's not like that, it was my fault... We were arguing, distracted, she told me to leave..."

"Hush now" Bethany rubbed his arm reassuringly. "You stayed, you saved her life."

"You're as wonderful as your sister" Anders ventured, grimacing slightly. "I meant that as a compliment, but it didn't come out right."

Bethany nodded, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead affectionately. Tibris reached out to his wife, murmuring a few indecipherable words in her ear before taking her by the hand and leading her from the room. Bethany turned back to her unconscious sister, stroking a hand through her hair before following the others and closing the door softly behind her. He pulled the chair recently vacated by Mayra closer to the bed, sinking into it with relief. Though it had hardly been subtle, he appreciated their attempts to give him some time with Hawke alone. Cautiously, he slid his hands across the bed and clasped her exposed hand gently between his. She looked moderately better than when he had last seen her, though this wasn't much of a comfort. Mayra had cleaned her wounds and bandaged them, and if it weren't for the whiteness of Hawke's skin it would appear that nothing were amiss. Her chest shuddered as it rose and fell steadily, a relief given how close the arrow had come to puncturing her lung. Even in sleep, her wounds obviously pained her; the fingers of her loose hand dug rivets in the covers, and her face was set in a pained grimace. Every so often she would twitch as the fever racked her body, and pressing the back of his hand against her forehead, it was worryingly hot to the touch.

His shoulders still shaking uncontrollably, he spoke as he played with her limp fingers, "You once told me that I'd never lose you, and I hold you that. I am so sorry, love, if it takes the rest of my days to make things right I will. I promise." He raised her hand, pressing a kiss against every knuckle before resting his head against it, as he squeezed his eyes closed.

After spending some time in silence he licked his lips, which were salty with the taste of his tears, "I'm not sure why, but I was thinking about that fancy ball that the Count held, a fair few years ago now. You didn't want to go, but your mother was scolding you mercilessly about networking and find a respectable man to court. So you dragged us all with you, got absolutely smashed on mead and scared off every prospective suitor within a five mile radius" Anders snorted. "Then when you'd sobered up a bit, I can remember you stalking over to me, as clear as day, in that dress... You held out your hand and demanded that I dance with you. Admittedly, when you looked like that it was impossible to refuse, even though I do have two left feet and I kept tripping over my robes" Anders smiled, the memory bringing forth a bittersweet sensation, "I can remember everyone staring at us. They knew what I was of course, if it weren't for you I would have already been in Templar custody by that time, or worse. They were all gobsmacked that their Champion, Hawke, who could probably have any man she wanted, had chosen the penniless runaway mage instead. I shared their astonishment, our exchanges had always been overly familiar when we talked, I'd always resisted, for reasons you know all to well. But still you persevered. That was the day you told everyone in Kirkwall where your allegiance lay, it was possibly the bravest thing I ever seen, and I'm counting all your efforts on the battlefield too. I always had a thing for you, but that's the night I really fell in love with you, that you would do something like that for me, even if it had been a purely platonic gesture... I suppose it was a lot easier for me, I never had to make any kind of statement, never had to change..." Anders sighed, his breath catching in his throat, "I wish it were so simple to rid myself of Justice, but for you..." He hesitated, stroking the back of her hand wistfully, "I'm going to have to try, aren't I?"

Though Hawke's eyes were closed, she could hear every word. Her eyelids still felt too heavy to open, and her throat too hoarse to speak, but she curled her fingers around his in what she hoped was a reassuring motion. She lay there listening to him speak, enjoying every intonation of his voice, every time she could sense a smile in his words. It stirred dazed memories, bringing them the forefront of her mind, and she chose to focus on these rather the pain. She could remember very vividly the event Anders was talking about, and the expression on his face when she had asked him to dance; bewildered, hesitant and yet curious.

"Dancing with an apostate, of course no one will ask questions" he had replied, sarcastically.

Hawke raised an eyebrow and held it there, her eyes traveling over his handsome features before meeting his. She reached forward and took hold of one of his hands, firmly, "It wasn't a request, Anders."

In truth, she had been far more nervous than he had been. Hawke had visited him regularly at his clinic and dragged him to the Hanged Man for every game of Wicked Grace, anything which meant he was distracted from his manifesto for a few hours at least. Still, Anders had put down her every attempt by telling her he was too dangerous, that he would hurt her. It didn't matter how much she protested. Still, Hawke knew he had feelings for her, and there was a part of her that just couldn't let it go. Forcing him to dance with her really had been the last resort. Even then, after the night's merriment, nothing had happened. The next day she skulked round his clinic looking hopeful, however he barely looked up from his work.

Peering over at him whilst trying to position herself to make her ample breasts look as irresistible as possible, she finally gave up.

Folding her arms, she frowned, "Anders, can I talk to you?"

Anders didn't look up from his manifesto, "If this is about Emeric's inversigation, I will come with you to the DuPuis' estate, but I have a bad feeling about it. Be careful."

"Of course" Hawke sighed. "You really are all business aren't you?"

When he looked up Hawke had gone. In her usual maddening way, she had slipped out without even making so much as a floorboard squeak.

So as was a true Fereldan custom, Hawke proceed to drown her sorrows at the nearest available inn. What she hadn't banked on however was several of her friends being there, and in high spirits.. Hawke ended up sat on one of the benches in The Hanged Man with her arms folded and her face down on the table, frowning at the furrows in the wood.

"Oh come on, he's hardly worth your suffering. If he can't see how lucky he is to have a dynamite girl like you interested that he's not worth the time. Besides, he's so... Serious" Isabella reasoned, as she sat beside her. Both Isabella and Merrill seemed to have made it their mission to cheer her up. Hawke made a mental note to take a bottle of wine to bed next time, instead.

Hawke shook her head, he face still hidden, "So is Fenris, and you still like him."

"Mmmmm" Isabella licked her lips. "But he's also so brooding, and intense. Although I seem to remember you thought the same once."

"That was a year ago, he's so bloody obtuse, I swear trying to get him to talk him about it is about as useful as starting a conversation with a dustbin lid" Hawke shook her head. Though she was over it, the memory still had a certain sting. She generally avoided any wanton thoughts she still had about the stoic elf.

"And Anders isn't?" Isabella rasied an eyebrow.

"That's different. And I know he likes me, I know it."

"Don't we all? You should see the way he gazes at you when you're not looking, like some lovesick puppy. It's well, sickening..." Isabella wrinkled her nose.

"And they say romance is dead" Hawke grinned at her. "Argh, I bet it's so damn cute too."

Isabella arched an eyebrow, "If you say so, hon. Although if cute's what you're after, I'm sure we could find some blushing type at The Blooming Rose that could sort you right out."

Merrill frowned, "What do they do there then?"

"You've never been Kitten? Hmm, we could have a girl's night out..." Isabella mused.

"To a brothel? Maker, Isabella" Hawke shook her head, laughing. "Next you'll be saying we should invite Aveline too."

"The look on her face would be priceless" Isabella giggled. "But, my dear Hawke. You're hardly one to talk. I've got you all worked out. Your thing for Anders, it's just the split personality isn't it? Two at once? Very kinky."

"How am I still surprised that everything comes down to sex with you, Isabella?" Hawke shook her head, though thoroughly amused.

"She might have a point, Hawke. Maybe you should just jump his bones" Merrill shrugged.

Hawke was pretty sure the sound of her bottom jaw hitting the floor could have deafened all of Kirkwall. Little, innocent, sweet, naive Merrill making such a suggestion completely threw her for a second, and it was't often she was thrown.

"A brilliant suggestion, if you ask me!" Isabella was cackling with laughter.

"No, you need to stop spending so much with this one" Hawke pointed at Isabella.

"Having said that mages are absolutely delicious in bed, especially if they're inventive..." Isabella began and sensing a story, Hawke got to her feet. Whilst Merrill seemed all too eager to listen Hawke felt that though she was fairly drunk, she was still too sober to stomach the level of debauchery it was sure to contain. With a wave of her hand she moved towards the crowded bar, leaning against it and thrumming her fingers on the wooden counter impatiently.

"You alright there, darlin'?"

Hawke nodded evasively, with a scowl that usual deterred any unwanted attentions.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, plying her with the old pick up line as he looked her up and down. Hawke had seen the man at the inn many times, a perpetual drunkard and old enough to be her father.

"When I fell to the ground from the Maker's side? No. But I will hurt you, if you don't get out of my face" Hawke snarled, suddenly angrier than she expected or seemed reasonable.

"Why you little..." he raised his hand, but Hawke was far too quick for him. The resulting punch knocked him off his feet.

"I told you" she glowered at him as he looked up at her blearily. Three of what appeared to be his friends lurched forward, looking at her uneasily clearly tied between loyalty to their fallen comrade and not wanting to receive the same fate. The entire inn was staring at her now, even Bethany and Merrill were looking perplexed. Before they could intervene however, a hand took hold of hers and pulled her through the crowd, "Sorry, excuse me. Come along dear! She hasn't had her medicine today, poor thing doesn't know where she is..."

Once outside the Hanged Man, Anders dropped her hand and stared at her searchingly, "What was that all about?"

Hawke shrugged, "I tried to avoid it but the man simply fell into my fist, what is a girl to do?"

"It's not funny, you could have seriously injured that man. You're a skilled fighter, he's just a drunk. I'm glad I intervened when I did" Anders folded his arms crossly.

"No really, it happens a lot. People falling onto my blades and jumping onto my arrows. It's like the want to get killed" Hawke replied sarcastically. She looked at Anders roguishly, "But what are you doing here?"

Anders looked flushed for a moment, "I came to see Varric, things have been oddly quiet at the clinic lately. I think he's paying someone off."

With more confidence than she would have had sober, Hawke stepped closer, "Anders, you're a terrible liar. We both know Varric's out of the city seeing Bartrand."

"Alright sweetheart, you got me" Anders held his hands up in mock surrender. "I was coming to find you."

"And why were you doing that?" Hawke purred.

"I think I upset you earlier, I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention." Anders replied, looking down at her hesitantly.

"And what was your intention?" Hawke raised an eyebrow, impishly.

"Aha, you're not going to get me to give in that easily, my dear" Anders grinned, and it was such a rare sight that it made her insides do somersaults. "Particularly not when you smell like a brewery."

"I do not!" Hawke replied impetuously, before relenting. "Alright, I might have had more than a few drinks, but I still know what I want..."

"Is that so? Maybe I should take you home" Anders said, shaking his head though the smile did not leave his face.

"Now you're getting it!" Hawke said, laughingly.

"You know what I meant. I will _walk_ you home, lest you do any damage to yourself or others" Anders said, motioning toward the steps to Hightown.

Hawke fell into step beside him, and suddenly serious asked, "It's nothing that I've done is it?"

Anders replied, though he did not look over at her, "Of course not. You drive me crazy, and last night was... The image of you in that dress... That's why I was so distant earlier. It was torture this afternoon, trying to keep myself away from you."

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they began to climb the dusty steps. After a few minutes Hawke reached out and grasped his hand tentatively, "Anders, I'm not intentionally trying to tease you... It's just. Well, you know."

Anders nodded and replied ruefully, "I do know."

Though they remained silent the entirety of the way home, he did not let go of Hawke's hand until they reached her doorway. As they made their goodbyes, they embraced, at which point it became increasingly difficult for Anders to leave. He did so however kissing her hand and leaving Hawke with a confused grin on her face. The very next day she marched down to his clinic, to find him putting out milk for the neighbourhood cats. Though her visit began quite chastely with Anders thanking her for aiding the mages, it ended with him pulling Hawke against him in a passionate kiss, and promising to visit her at her estate later in the evening, if she so desired.

"_You can't tease me like this and expect me to resist forever."_

"_How long will it take until I drive you mad?"_

The next time Hawke visited Isabella at The Hanged Man, it was with a wide, blissful grin on her face.

"You got laid didn't you?"

"Oh, Isabella. You must teach me your eloquent way of putting things."

Mind lost in reveries of happier times, Hawke fell into a fitful sleep. Whenever she awoke, Anders was at her side, fast asleep, but with his fingers intertwined with hers. Eventually, as the pain subsided somewhat, she drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber.


End file.
